


Oral Recording

by EnzymaticWitch



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Jonathan Sims, Do Not Archive, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexy statement reading?, Trans Martin Blackwood, hinted Tim/Martin/Jon, mild exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 11:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17042471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnzymaticWitch/pseuds/EnzymaticWitch
Summary: Jon “helps” Martin record a statement.





	Oral Recording

**Author's Note:**

> Set during no season in particular. Inspired by tweets found on twitter @eliasfker69.

“—of Ita Walsh regarding her encounter with, um,” Martin squints. “The writing is smudged here and there. Ahem. The statement of Ita Walsh regarding her encounter with an entity of some sort, I imagine. Statement begins. I—“

The knocking at the door distracts him before he can even start. Martin wants to groan, doesn’t even get to answer before the person is barreling in and— oh, it’s Jon, a fierce blush on his cheeks, a scowl on his face. The door closes behind him with a quiet click.

“Jon! Can I help—“ Jon leans over the desk, curling a hand in Martin’s hair and kisses him without preamble. Bites Martin’s lip a bit until he opens his mouth and lets Jon in.

They break apart at some point, Jon pressing their foreheads together, hand firmly tangled in Martin’s hair. He’s smiling, something Jon rarely, if ever, does inside the Institute, a bit awkward with a fierce blush across his face.

“Jon?” That seems to jolt Jon out of his haze. His hand slides down Martin’s neck as he kisses the side of his mouth.

“I want to try something,” Jon says in lieu of explanation, his other hand beginning to unbutton Martin’s trousers. Martin makes an undignified squeak, begins to protest but is silenced when Jon kisses him again. He pulls Martin’s trousers and paw-patterned boxer briefs down to his feet but leaves them there.

Jon looks up at him, trepidation in his eyes, and asks, “Is this OK?” 

Martin nods. “Yes, yes.”

Martin thinks this is going a very specific direction when Jon gets to his knees, but instead he crawls under the desk and beckons Martin to sit back in the chair. And suddenly Martin remembers the little fantasy he told Jon about months ago, when they were both tipsy and in high spirits. That he loves Jon’s mouth, loves it even more when his mouth is on him, and that he’s had fantasies about them in the statement room together. Granted, his fantasies had been of sucking Jon off, but Martin isn’t going to complain.

He’s not sure what brought this on now. Jon pinches him when he tries to ask.

“Continue your work, Martin,” Jon orders, drawing his name out, kissing the inside of Martin’s thigh. 

Martin laughs at that. Of course Jon wants him to _finish_ _the_ _statement_. “You’re not serious?”

Jon doesn’t reply, which is answer enough.

”Fine, alright.” He clears his throat again and beings, “I will start off by saying I’m not a pervert, writing this down to get off on the idea that some poor student will read it someday. I don’t particularly care for people knowing details about my sex life, if you could even call this that.”

Jon takes that moment to start, fingers parting Martin’s folds so Martin feels splayed open. Jon likes looking, when the mood suits him, and Martin always feels a little self-conscious about it. Jon begins licking his cock and Martin can’t find it in himself to hold onto that feeling.

He sighs, enjoying the feeling of Jon’s tongue on him. “I met Marie in university, though I’m not sure what she was studying. I think she was there because she wanted to be normal. That’s what normal people our age do.”

“She wasn’t normal. Not Marie. She played normal well enough to get me to fall into bed with her, but she was— _Jon_!“ Martin lets out a squeak when Jon presses a dry finger against his ass. Jon leaves it there, circling the furl of skin when Martin tries to move, to get _more_.

Jon continues when Martin continues and stops when Martin stops, too overwhelmed to continue reading or unable to focus on the page. He still manages to get through most of the statement without issue, but finds himself accidentally rereading lines. The third time he does Jon nips at his thigh, fingers curling deep and Martin bites his fist to avoid crying out. The statement room is somewhat soundproof but not _that_ soundproof.

Martin inhales a shaky breath, trying to find the place he left off. “I tried to make it to where I thought the door was. I couldn’t find it, and when I tried to go back to the bed I hit another wall.” Martin tries to focus, his body and his fear sending conflicting signals. It’s difficult, with Jon’s tongue pressing into him and his thumb on Martin’s cock, to focus on the horror this person felt. 

Sweat slides down Martin’s face. “I was scared, because I was awake and the room was real and Marie was gone. And I knew what was going to happen next.”

“The dark wrapped along me—“ Martin moans, hips rolling against Jon’s tongue, trying to get more and deeper and he’s so— but Jon pulls away, a chuckle on his lips. He strokes his fingers through Martin’s slit, delighted at the way he shivers and tries to chase the feeling. 

“Close?” Jon drawls.

“You know damn well,” Martin grouses without bite. He can’t see Jon but he can imagine his smirk.

“Keep going and maybe I’ll let you find your release,” Jon replies and that hadn’t occurred to Martin, the thought of not finishing. There’s no real threat behind it, but the idea of Jon taking this much control is enough to make his toes curl.

Martin mutters something that might be a curse before continuing. “I don’t know how long I was there. It felt like eternity, but I woke up in my own bed—“ There’s a knock at the door.

Jon’s just barely begun again. He stops but doesn’t pull away, and Martin has to suppress a groan. “Who— who is it?” 

Elias comes into the room, leaving the door ajar behind him.

“Elias!” Martin squeaks, more for Jon’s benefit than his, so Jon knows how close they are to getting caught. Elias gives him a bland smile as he places a folder on the desk. 

“Tim left his supplemental research in my office after his performance review. Could you file this appropriately?” 

“Oh, tha—“ Jon chooses this moment to start up again, slipping his fingers inside and latching onto Martin’s cock, giving a hard suck. Martin very nearly screams. “—aaaank— thank you, Elias. I’ll get right on that once I’m done.”

“You’re welcome. The Archives is enough of a mess without new research getting improperly filed.” Elias observes him for a moment longer, face twisting to show something like concern, and Martin wishes at this moment that he would just leave. “Are you well, Martin? You’re quite flushed.”

“Ah— I’m fi~ine. _Fine_. Just a bit of a cramp,” Martin babbles, but then Elias presses his palm against Martin’s cheek and Jon is curling his fingers and Martin is coming with a bitten-off whimper. 

Elias cradles Martin’s cheek and he leans into it despite himself. Jon removes his fingers but keeps licking into Martin, tonguing his cock occasionally, soft and teasing.

“You’re burning up. Perhaps you should head home early,” Elias says. Martin misses his smirk, eyes half-closed and unfocused. “Don’t worry, I’ll let Jon know when I see him.” 

Martin says, because he cannot say anything else, “Thank you.”

Elias’s back is to him when he says, “I do deeply appreciate you recording these oral statements. Taking the load off Jon, as it were. Try not to exhaust yourself by taking on too much at once. You and Jon have the unhealthy habit of throwing yourselves into your work.”

”I—I,” _I’ll_ _do_ _my_ _best_ , he tries to say, but Elias has already left and Martin may have lost his ability to form coherent sentences.

The quiet click of the door closing sets Jon off again, fingers curling and thrusting, using Martin’s slick to slide a finger into his ass. He’s still sensitive, too sensitive, but Martin’s powerless to do anything, hips pushing against Jon’s face as he sucks him. Martin claws at the desk, statement dangerously close to getting torn. He whimpers Jon’s name, asking for mercy, asking for more.

“Finish the statement,” Jon orders.

Martin takes a steadying breath that does little to help. “I— I loved her— it, I suppose. My monster, whatever she was. I don’t know if she was capable of loving me, but in the end she let me return from that place. Though—“ 

Jon uses his free hand to grab Martin’s hip, forcing his hips still as he takes and takes and Martin feels himself reaching the edge again far too soon. 

“I haven’t seen Marie since, but I feel like I will soon. She’s waiting for me. I will be taken. Embraced by that infinite nothing again.” Jon takes his cock into his mouth and sucks.

“Statement— statement ends.” Martin doesn’t bother to muffle his moan and he comes again, fingers curled right on either side of the desk. He has the freedom this time to rock against Jon’s face and his fingers and Jon lets him until Martin slumps onto the desk.

Jon pushes Martin’s chair back with no help from Martin and crawls out, a smug grin on his face. Martin isn’t sure if he should kiss him or smack him, settles for sliding out of the chair and onto the floor. Jon decides for him by crawling over and kissing him, tasting exactly like he’s been eating Martin out for the better part of an hour.

“You’re terrible,” Martin says when they break apart.

“You love it,” Jon replies, absently licking his fingers.

“I do.” They had a conversation about workplace indulgences, and how it’s best if Martin doesn’t get off at work or he may become incapable of ever doing actual work again. “What even brought this on? It’s not like you.”

Jon shifts, blushing a little, as if this is the thing to be embarrassed about. “Last night, you got off before I got home. I had a hard time getting to sleep, every time I closed my eyes I imagined you— well.”

Martin blinks at that. He could have sworn he changed the sheets before showering, but maybe he fell asleep instead.

Jon continues, “Then I remembered the fantasy you told me about and _that_ was all I could think about for hours.”

“I’m sorry?” Martin says, more a question than an apology.

Jon huffs a laugh. “I’m the one who should be sorry, distracting you from work. I can’t very well ask you to— to wait for me on the off chance I have a desire to watch or participate.”

Martin leans into him, smile on his face. “Not that I regret you jumping me, but you could wake me up next time? If you need something. You know me, I’d be happy to go again for you anytime.”

“I will, next time,” he says, mirroring Martin’s smile. “And I’ll remind you that you agreed when you’re grumpy in the morning.” 

“Do you need me to—“ Martin begins, more a cursory attempt than anything, already knowing the answer.

“No, no. I’m alright,” Jon replies. He wraps an arm around Martin’s waist, head on his shoulder. 

Martin closes his eyes, just resting for a moment and praying nobody else barges in. He doesn’t think Elias will fire them, though he should. He may decide to move Martin out of the Archives to avoid complications, as Jon is his supervisor. 

“We need to get rid of that tape,” he says, and doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that Jon’s looking at him, brow furrowed.

“I’d like to keep it.” Of course he would.

Martin would roll his eyes if it wasn’t Jon’s request. How very Jon of him to want to keep a statement they had sex during. “So you have a tape of me making a fool of myself?”

“So I have a recording of the cute noises you make when you come.”

Really, there is no way to argue with that.

 

—

 

_Supplemental_ :

“Martin, Jon, I have— oh, you’re being horny on main again.”

“What— _Tim_?”

“Get out, Tim.”

“Typical. When Martin and I fuck in the Archives it’s a crime against decency but when _you_ do it—“

“Tim!”

“Stay or go, but shut the damn door and lock it.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

**Author's Note:**

> Post-supplemental:  
> Elias is in his office Googling what “horny on main” means.


End file.
